John Bryant - Lights Of Town/ Milkman (Demos on acetate)

 

John Bryant's early demos for his 1971 LP

John Bryant was probably the first ever musician whose work I owned yet whose identity was something of a mystery. His scarce Fontana 45 "It's Dark" sat in my parents pile of old singles and my Dad, who shared his name and clearly had mischief on his mind, concocted a story that he had tried his hand at becoming a singer and this one effort was all he had to his name before he opted to take a more mundane working life. Obviously, I believed him.

It wasn't until I was about six years old that he burst out laughing and admit I'd been had, and I went from being proud of what I thought was my father singing a perfectly good song to feeling slightly cheated. "What?! What?! You didn't seriously think it was me, did you?" he asked, and a clear life lesson that parents were neither God-like figures nor obscure artists signed to Fontana was cruelly realised. 

From there, the single lived on in my own collection and I decided to carry the joke on, occasionally telling friends that it was my Dad's attempt at a hit record "but don't talk to him about it - he gets a bit funny. It's a real sore point". 

Back in the real world, this particular John Bryant came from Tooting, not Peckham like my Dad, and spent some time in the gigging beat group The Shifters in the sixties with future Groundhog Tony McPhee. He was then signed as a solo artist to Fontana and issued a trio of folk singles which highlighted his skills as an intimate performer, from the rough beatnik stylings of his first 45 "Tell Me What You See" through to the smoky shoreline contemplation of his final effort for the label, the aforementioned "Million Miles Away". 

Later on, he signed to MCA to issue the much fancied psychedelic pop effort "I Bring The Sun", before emerging on Decca to release the super-obscure "I Believe I Love You", then shunting over to Polydor in 1971 to finally issue a full-length LP. It's from that record that these two tracks stem, but unlike the versions you'll find there, these are stripped bare and boil the tunes down to the essence of Bryant and his acoustic guitar. While, for instance, "Lights Of Town" features a whining country guitar and Americanised arrangements on the commercially issued version, this acetate is acoustic, reflective and maudlin and altogether more English sounding (and actually better, from my point of view). 

Meanwhile, the other side features him bluesily considering murdering the local milkman, something I hope he managed to get over before a Richey Rich styled incident emerged to ruin his promising musical career. 

Reupload - John Bryant - Tell Me What You See/ Poor Unfortunate Me

 

Rough and ready fuzz guitar ridden folk-rock 

Label: Fontana

Year of Release: 1965

We've touched on the work of John Bryant on this blog before, examining the ultra-obscure (£162 to you, squire) single "A Million Miles Away/ It's Dark", which was handed down to me from my parent's record collection. 

That particular single is a likeable and folky piece of work, with (as one reader pointed out to me) a flip that's very reminiscent of Cat Stevens. This single, however, was Bryant's Fontana debut and is an entirely different affair, being a distorted, snarling piece of folk-rock with distinctly Dylan leanings. Taking a very basic garage riff and piling surrealist lyrics on top ("clouds that move beneath the sea/ preachers dressed in leather") it's so beatnik it hurts - and is actually quite forward thinking for a British solo artist in 1965. Donovan might already have been around doing his best Bobby impressions, but he was seldom as rough and ready as this.

This may have been his (flop) debut single, but John Bryant actually enjoyed a long career in music after this, issuing further 45s for MCA, Polydor and Private Stock (the MCA single "I Bring The Sun" is a favourite of many collectors) only really ceasing recorded activities in 1978. He also wrote "Dear Old Mrs Bell" for The Shadows in 1968, and Cliff Richard recorded his track "She's a Gypsy".

These days he owns Abbeywood Films and the graphic design, animation and soundtrack firm Bryant Whittle, from where he's still penning music for commercial use.

Arthur's Mother - On The Dole/ Butterfly

Joyous folk-rock A-side backed by slightly psychedelic flip

Label: Polydor

Year of Release: 1971

John Bryant has featured on this blog a number of times, and perhaps unsurprisingly so. Despite his rather hitless career from the mid-sixties onwards, he nonetheless released a constant stream of singles throughout that decade and the seventies. None of these records really improved his fortunes any, and his resilience is certainly something to be admired.

This track was given not one but two releases by Polydor, this being the first outing under the group name of Arthur's Mother. While it seems doubtful that this was much of a proper, touring band, the line-up apparently consisted of Bryant on vocals and guitar with Arthur Kitchener on keyboards, Graham Deakin on drums, and Mike Wedgewood on brace. On its second issue, the group name was dropped and the single was credited to Bryant alone.

John D Bryant - Mr. Tambourine Man/ Lady Came From Baltimore

Lush, adult orientated 70s take of the Dylan/ Byrds classic. 

Label: Private Stock

Year of Release: 1978

John D Bryant has been on this blog before, and it's difficult to find much more to say about him. Beginning his career as a rather Dylanesque beatnik figure in the mid-sixties and gradually progressing into brighter, more tightly produced singer-songwriter fare, he managed to issue tons of records without once scoring a hit. Of these, debut 45 "Tell Me What You See" is the most abrasive, having a raw, garage feel, whereas the rather Jeff Lynne-esque "I Bring The Sun" is much fancied by psychedelic pop pickers.

By 1978, he'd been taken under the wing of Private Stock Records and "No Strings" and "Mr Tambourine Man" were his last singles. It has to be said, this one is an unusual release, being a smooth-as-silk AOR take on the Dylan classic, feeling strangely like "Rumours" era Fleetwood Mac in places. Clearly it was an attempt at harnessing the nostalgic pangs of an adult hippy audience who had since moved on to rather slicker fare. It has to be said, The Tremeloes' Alan Blakley does a good job in the producer's chair - the strings, female backing vocals and soaring arrangements give the track a yuppie euphoria it almost certainly didn't have before.

John Bryant - Tell Me What You See/ Poor Unfortunate Me

Label: Fontana

Year of Release: 1965

We've touched on the work of John Bryant on this blog before, examining the ultra-obscure (£162 to you, squire) single "A Million Miles Away/ It's Dark", which was handed down to me from my parent's record collection. 

That particular single is a likeable and folky piece of work, with (as one reader pointed out to me) a flip that's very reminiscent of Cat Stevens. This single, however, was Bryant's Fontana debut and is an entirely different affair, being a distorted, snarling piece of folk-rock with distinctly Dylan leanings. Taking a very basic garage riff and piling surrealist lyrics on top ("clouds that move beneath the sea/ preachers dressed in leather") it's so beatnik it hurts - and is actually quite forward thinking for a British solo artist in 1965. Donovan might already have been around doing his best Bobby impressions, but he was seldom as rough and ready as this.

This may have been his (flop) debut single, but John Bryant actually enjoyed a long career in music after this, issuing further 45s for MCA, Polydor and Private Stock (the MCA single "I Bring The Sun" is a favourite of many collectors) only really ceasing recorded activities in 1978. He also wrote "Dear Old Mrs Bell" for The Shadows in 1968, and Cliff Richard recorded his track "She's a Gypsy".

These days he owns Abbeywood Films and the graphic design, animation and soundtrack firm Bryant Whittle, from where he's still penning music for commercial use.

Reupload - John Bryant - A Million Miles Away/ It's Dark

Label: Fontana
Year of Release: 1967

This, seemingly, is one of the rarest records in my collection. We've had these discussions before, of course - rare does not necessarily equal "valuable" or even collectible, so this in itself isn't a terribly impressive statement. On many occasions I have placed this single in the pile to go to the charity shop only to remove it and return it to the box from whence it came, purely because it's the only copy of it I've ever seen and to just brutally discard it in an unsentimental fashion runs against every instinct I have, however downright daft those instincts may be.

I have other sentimental reasons besides. This record was originally a joke gift to my father from a friend of his. Given that my Dad's name is John Bryant, he thought it would be highly amusing to ask why he'd hidden his talents for so long. The single became a family joke for a long time after that, with my Dad winding me up as a gullible five-year old by declaring to me, with apparent sincerity, that it was him singing. This felt astonishing to me. I loved records as much then as I do now, and the "fact" that my Dad had once released one made him almost superhuman in my eyes and I spun it on our chunky old record player (complete with sliding cabinet doors) on many occasions. Later being informed that I was, in fact, the victim of a cruel hoax was probably the first lesson in the long chain of life lessons we have to endure to eventually realise that our parents are not Godlike creatures after all - neither faultless nor all-knowing nor flop Fontana recording artists. Maybe the seeds of this blog were actually born the very day I was told the truth. Only a shrink could confirm that one.

Nonetheless, I rescued this record from a box of unwanted vinyl my parents were going to give to a charity shop in the nineties, and it's stayed in my collection ever since... and then I was slightly shocked to learn that a copy of it sold on ebay recently for £162. Apparently collectors of the Fontana label have huge trouble tracking this one down, and it's a sought-after release for that reason alone.

As for what it's actually like, back in September 2008 when I originally uploaded this record, I wrote the following:

"Even though I don't actually think this single is a masterpiece, it's the only release that's ever caused my entire family (rather than just me) to collectively puzzle and ponder about the whereabouts of the artist, and wonder if he possibly might be a distant relative. A quick google search and scour around some sixties sites reveals that John Bryant had three singles out on Fontana in the sixties, and one on MCA entitled "I Bring the Sun" which the "Happening 45" online store says is "Psychedelic pop manna from heaven, with mellotron, wah wah and tripped out daydream lyrics."

"A Million Miles Away", on the other hand, is most definitely not psychedelic. John Bryant sounds rather like one of the many folk singer-songwriters of the period who got rushed into major label studios to have an orchestra bunged behind their compositions, and I'll be frank, this really isn't anything much to flip your wig about. It's a perfectly pleasant three minutes, with his rich, deep voice musing upon the pleasures of solitude on the harbour, but anyone expecting a find on a par with Bill Fay is going to be sorely disappointed. The flip side "It's Dark" is rather more bouncy and perhaps more interesting, but there's not much in the contest."

John Bryant - now largely known as John D Bryant - came forward from the shadows and pointed me in the direction of his website, where more songs can be found as well as his other media projects. He seems to be something of an entertainment industry mover and shaker these days.

Anyone wanting to buy "A Million Miles Away" from me - and it is slightly scuffed due to my enthusiasm as a small child, as you can hear - you might have to wait. I'm not that interested in selling it yet, but I am about to embark on a very expensive house move, so who knows how I'll feel in the next few months…

John Bryant - A Million Miles Away

Label: Fontana
Year of Release: 1967

This is an act of complete self-indulgence on my part, but then screw it, it was my birthday yesterday so I feel as if I can do anything I want. Within reason, obviously.

For many years, the above 45 has been something of a family joke. Of all the obscure sixties singles there have ever been, this is also probably the only one we had about the house when I was a very small child. Let me explain - my father's name is John Bryant. Despite this, he is most definitely not the solo artist behind this work, contrary to his frequent claims. You see, this single was bought for him as a present by a friend of his at the time of its release, and for a long time afterwards he carried it around in his bag with him, showing it off to people and telling them it was his own work. Whether he did this for laughs or in some futile attempt to raise his social status I couldn't possibly say - although it remains a massive childhood disappointment to me that he tried the scam out on me when I was four years old, and I was deeply impressed. Even at that age I thought having a single out on a "proper label" was probably one of the greatest things you could achieve in life.

Even though I don't actually think this single is a masterpiece, it's the only release that's ever caused my entire family (rather than just me) to collectively puzzle and ponder about the whereabouts of the artist, and wonder if he possibly might be a distant relative. A quick google search and scour around some sixties sites reveals that John Bryant had three singles out on Fontana in the sixties, and one on MCA entitled "I Bring the Sun" which the "Happening 45" online store says is "Psychedelic pop manna from heaven, with mellotron, wah wah and tripped out daydream lyrics. The B side is almost as fantastic. A lost classic and pretty scarce." I have never heard this one for myself, so unfortunately cannot pass comment (although any MP3s anybody has would be very welcome). I seem to have memories of the "Sweet Floral Albion" sixties e-zine also recommending this as well.

"A Million Miles Away", on the other hand, is most definitely not psychedelic. John Bryant sounds rather like one of the many folk singer-songwriters of the period who got rushed into major label studios to have an orchestra bunged behind their compositions, and I'll be frank, this really isn't anything much to flip your wig about. It's a perfectly pleasant three minutes, with his rich, deep voice musing upon the pleasures of solitude on the harbour, but anyone expecting a find on a par with Bill Fay is going to be sorely disappointed. The flip side "It's Dark" is rather more bouncy and perhaps more interesting, but there's not much in the contest.

The question, however, remains. Who was John Bryant, and how did he manage to put out a string of singles on major labels in the sixties without having a hit? Did you know him? Are you him? Please do drop me a line if so, because I've always been curious about this one, and so have my family. The fact that he also had a "lost" psychedelic single out I've never heard has me even more intrigued.

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